


you keep your feet and they call it brave

by ultranos



Series: used to be a part of me that never thought to doubt [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultranos/pseuds/ultranos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The quickest way to a woman's heart is through her stomach.  Failing that, a boot to the head might work.</p>
<p>In which Lucy flirts with food, Alex is oblivious, and Kara resists the urge to facepalm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you keep your feet and they call it brave

Like most things that went weird in her life, Alex decided later, it was all Kara’s fault.

To be entirely fair, a lot of the weird turned out for the best later on, but still.  All Kara’s fault.

Returning to the DEO after being a federal fugitive _should_ have been a lot harder than it actually was, but having two superheroes with iron-clad reputations for truth, justice, and the American Way looking appropriately disappointed at the correct people did wonders.  (As did a large box of soft pretzels to Clark.)

That isn’t to say it went well.  The powers that be weren’t about to let J’onn go back to being in charge, even if he was pardoned.  The Army was demanding still having a say in running the DEO, the DEO wanted to stay a separate agency, other parts of the alphabet soup of government were getting nervous if the DEO did get eaten by the armed forces, and if Alex had to sit in another committee meeting where nothing actually got decided, she was probably going to kill someone.  Because she was human and the DEO’s 2IC before shit happened, she was the closest thing to an actual authority figure on the civilian side, and so she was de-facto leading things. 

Sort of.

Major Lane had been doing a fantastic job as director, so kicking her out was kind of a dick move.  (Also, Kara’s sadfaces would have been epic.)  But enough feathers had been ruffled by the semi-hostile takeover that not everyone would be pleased to have even her in charge after everything went back.  So the idiots in Washington decided that clearly the best plan was a co-directorship of the DEO, both civilian and military.

In the grand tradition of good compromises, absolutely no one was happy with it, and Alex and Major Lane probably most of all.

It’s not that she didn’t like Lane.  Far from it; it was kinda hard to hate the person who helped break you out of a prison transport.  It’s just that...it wasn’t the same and goddammit, when she thought about it that way, she sounds like she’s five.  Which just pisses her off even more.

It’s 6am, Alex can’t remember the last time she slept, every rack in the bunkroom was full, and the protein bar from whenever the hell long ago isn’t really doing anything anymore.  And to make matters worse, the stupid forms she has to fill out because the paperwork for an alien rampaging through a brick wall is horrific won’t do her the courtesy of catching on fire when she glares at them. 

A steaming mug of coffee miraculously appears by her elbow.

Alex looks at it suspiciously.

It just kinda sits there, not even disappearing as a sleep-deprived hallucination.

“For godsakes Danvers, I didn’t poison it.”

“You brought me coffee.” She takes a sniff of the possibly-not-hallucination coffee, and then squints at her officemate. “Correction: you brought me non-base coffeepot coffee.  What are you up to, Lane?”

“Well, for one thing, you obviously need it.”

Alex blinks.  Her head feels fuzzy.  Lane doesn’t do this.  The number of people who would bring Alex coffee period can be counted on one hand and are named “Kara”.  (J’onn handing over the drek from the base coffeepot is a questionable second.)  She takes a sip and nearly moans; she hasn’t had coffee like this in years, not since her graduate roommate went on that hipster coffee phase.  Somehow, she manages not to and just peers over the rim of the mug at Lane.  This is not normal.

Lane rolls her eyes.  “In the interest of not letting my co-director die, I figured I’d remind you what actual coffee tasted like. Maybe it’d entice you to actually leave this place and remember the sun exists.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I wasn’t here?” She takes a sip.  Dammit, the coffee is really fucking good.

“I’d have to fill out the form in triplicate,” Lane says with a straight face.

“Hah hah, you’re a riot.  I’m glad to know my continued existence ranks higher than paperwork.”

“Speaking of...” Lane swipes the stack of papers threatening to overtake Alex’s desk.  “Give me half of that.  The sooner we both finish, the better.”

Something feels off here, but honestly, the coffee is making her just awake enough to realize how damn tired she is.  She makes a noise that might have been a half-coherent protest with a bit more effort, but Lane just starts going through the forms with a brisk efficiency.  With her back turned, Alex can see the precise stretch of muscles play over Lane’s back with every move through the material of her shirt. 

She blinks again.  Oh, that’s it.  Lane’s not wearing her dress blues, instead apparently going for the DEO’s usual uniform today.  That’s why everything feels weird.  Only...no, that’s not it.  Damn her sleep-deprived brain.

She gives Lane one last look across the office, before turning back to the form from hell.  Her co-director’s right about getting all this over with, at any rate.

Alex takes another sip of coffee.

 

—

 

The coffee doesn’t become a regular thing.  But Lane will pull it out every once in awhile and Alex’s pretty much taking it as her way of saying “seriously get the hell out of here”.  It’s practically the most pleasant threat Alex’s has ever gotten and she can’t help being bemused by it.

She’s even more confused when Lane throws a Builders’ bar across the office at her head one day when she’s neck-deep in the technical report of the latest scavenged alien tech that may or may not be capable of destroying the world if someone pushes the wrong button.

“Ow.  What the hell?”

“You missed lunch.  Again.”

Alex looks at the clock and swears.  It’s well past lunch and meandering towards a reasonable dinner hour.  “I am, in fact, capable of feeding myself,” she mutters as she unwraps the protein bar and takes a bite.  Oh hey, chocolate mint, her favorite.  “I could go just grab something from the stockroom.”

Lane makes a face.  “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to avoid.  I’ve eaten enough shitty MREs that I don’t want to be in the same room as them.”  Her lips pull into a smirk.  “Come on, Danvers, I have standards.”

“And your standards apply to me how?”

Lane stares at her for a moment before shaking her head.  “Just...eat the damn bar.”

Alex eats the damn bar.

 

—

 

There’s the time a bag of tacos shows up on her desk after coming back from a near-disaster of a mission.  Which makes no sense because she’d just talked to Kara who was over in Metropolis with her cousin.  Vasquez swears up and down that she has no idea where they came from. 

What the hell.

 

—

 

Eventually, after enough crises, Alex thinks she and Lucy somehow manage to find an equilibrium.  Paperwork is split, field missions are traded off, Alex gets more time to play in her lab and Lucy is apparently very, very good at getting idiot politicians out of their hair by being pleasantly threatening.

Things feel almost normal.  Except something keeps itching at the back of Alex’s brain, because things feel almost _too easy_.  Kara’s doing more than fine.  J’onn is getting to enjoy freedom as himself.  The DEO is running smoothly.  Lucy is great to work with.

So why does it feel like she’s missing something really fucking obvious?

 

—

 

There’s a certain pleasure to physicality.  Alex is an adrenaline junkie, she can admit that.  But field missions and saving the world are one thing.  There’s still a certain thrill in training, the satisfying thwack of her fist against the punching bag and the knowledge that every time she pushes herself in the gym, there’s less chance of failure out in the real world.

“Hey, do you mind if I join you?”

Alex looks up, wiping sweat off her brow, and sees Lucy in the entrance of the training room, dressed in a tank top and gym shorts with a towel slung over her shoulder.  They’re the only ones here at this hour, so there’s more than enough space for two.  “Sure, go ahead.”

It’s an easy silence between them, and Alex lets herself get lost again in the rhythm of the punches.  She doesn’t know how long it is before she feels Lucy’s eyes on her again.  “Something wrong?”

“No, just thinking that hitting that bag might get boring after awhile.”  She grins, sharp and bright.  “What do you say, Director Danvers?  Fancy a spar?”

Just the thought of it hits something sparking inside her, lighting synapses up and adrenaline racing down her blood.  She’s seen Lucy fight, of course.  But they’ve never trained together, tested themselves against each other.  It’s too good an offer to pass up.

Alex returns the grin, feeling her her lips curl up to show teeth.  She slowly starts rewrapping her hands.  “That a challenge, Director Lane?  What do I get if I win?”

“First crack at the bottle of Oban 14 my dad sent as a gift.  I win, you owe me a pound of hipster coffee beans.”

Alex whistles.  “You have my attention.  All right, how do you want to do this?”

“First to tap out is good enough.  No point in beating ourselves bloody.”

“I dunno,” she says as she climbs up onto the training platform, “the scotch might be worth it.”

Lucy just rolls her eyes as she hops onto the mat.  As they settle into their stances, Alex lets her eyes take in her opponent, all the taut lines and toned muscle.  Lucy holds herself like she’s a predator, bold and bright as a tiger and just as fierce. There’s nothing subtle about her, not like this.   And Alex is well aware of her claws; there’s not a few prisoners in holding cells in the bowels of the DEO that took a bet on Lucy Lane and lost.

Alex didn’t get where she is today by underestimating people.

They start out easy, probing attacks that are easy to deflect or dodge, each of them trying to get a sense of the other.  Almost as if on some unspoken signal, they speed up.  There is a rhythm to a fight, a beat and tempo that if you can control it, you control the fight.  But then there are times when it’s not about control, when the ebb and flow, the give and take of the fight weave in and out of each other.  Where it turns into a dance.

Strike. Dodge. Sweep. Block. Kick. Guard.

Eventually, someone makes a mistake.  Lucy overextends and Alex takes the opening, a low sweeping kick at her ankle that sends Lucy toppling.  She manages to lock her legs around Alex’s left, twisting as she falls to bring Alex down with her.  It turns into a grappling match that finally ends with Alex pinning her to the mat, legs holding down Lucy’s to deny her leverage while she pins her wrists above her head with one hand.

They’re both breathing hard, and from where she is above her, Alex can feel the rise and fall of Lucy’s chest against her own with every pant.  She’s suddenly very aware of Lucy’s bare calves against the material of her pants, the feel of the tendons in her wrist under her palms.  Alex looks down at her face.

Lucy surges up and kisses her.

Alex’s brain segfaults.

What.

That...what.  Did that...did she...that just happened. 

While she desperately attempts to reboot her brain, because what the hell, she nearly misses the tap on the mat.  Training kicks in and Alex relaxes her grip without thinking about it, still completely pole-axed.

“Guess you win, Danvers,” Lucy drawls as she rolls to her feet.

“What.”

She stretches, tank top riding up to expose the flat plane of her her stomach.  Alex can’t help but look and oh god what the actual hell is happening.  Lucy’s smile is strangely satisfied, the cat who got the cream.  “Looks like we’re going to have to set a date for that scotch.” 

Alex has the distinct feeling that not only are they not on the same page, they’re not even in the same book.  “What?”

“You’re cute when you’re confused.”  And with that, Lucy grabs her towel and, there is no other word for it, saunters out, leaving Alex still sitting on the mat alone in the gym.

“What.”

 

—

 

“Lucy kissed me?”

Okay, as far as ways she’s opened a phone conversation, that’s really not up there with her best.  One, it’s Kara.  Two, Alex really feels like she’s allowed some slack in this.

“Finally!”

“What do I...wait, what do you mean ‘finally’?  You knew?  How the hell did you know?”  That...that is not the reaction she expected.

“She has had a crush on you for approximately forever and asked me how to make you actually notice.  And one of us had to not let you screw up your chances, so I told her food.  And coffee.  I really thought that would have made you, you know, pay attention.”

“Lucy has a crush on me?”

“Uh, yeah, I think that’d be pretty obvious at this point.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Duh?  What do you think I was supposed to do?  I can keep a secret.”

“...”

“ _ALEX_.”

 

—

 

So talking to Kara was less than helpful.  Also, slightly mortifying because jesus christ, did everyone know this?  Alex thinks back and starts putting pieces together.  The coffee.  The other food.  Paperwork help so she’d actually get sleep.  (Well, at least the mysterious taco delivery was solved?)  How easy things got, how things started clicking again at the DEO, with her life.

How she’s started to really enjoy Lucy’s company, how things seem to go better, faster when they’re in the office at the same time.  How it feels to know they’re on the same side, finally.  The way her smile goes just a shade of feral when she’s got one of those really good plans to get what they want, be it a fugitive or a politician.  How she makes people pay for it when they underestimate her.  Her razor sharp wit and dry snark, matching Alex strike for strike.  Her brilliance on and off the field.  The way she laughs when they’ve pulled off the impossible and saved the world again.

Alex blinks.  Thinks back over everything she just realized.  She blinks again.

Oh fuck, she has a crush on Lucy Lane.

 

—-

 

“What do I do?” Alex runs her hands through her hair as she paces in front of the sofa in Kara’s apartment.

Her sister swallows her bite of pizza and looks at her like she’s a moron.  Which she doesn’t feel is far from the truth right now but gah.  “How about, I don’t know, _talking_ to her?”

Alex halts and points a finger.  “You.  You are not allowed to sound so reasonable and logical.  That’s supposed to be my job.  Don’t take my job.”

Kara rolls her eyes.  “Well, one of us has to pick up the slack.”  She puts down her slice and folds her hands into her lap.  “Okay, let’s try this.  What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know!  That’s why this is hard!”

“Yes, we established that feelings are hard.  Come on, Alex.  You’ve dated before.”

“Yeah, but none of them were _Lucy_ freaking _Lane_.”

Kara is quiet for a moment.  “Alex,” her voice is softer now.  “What is actually the problem?”

Alex doesn’t have an answer.  Kara nods like she did.

“Just _talk_ to her.  She might surprise you.”

“...when did you get so wise?”

Her smile is like the sun and something in Alex’s world feels like it’s anchored again.  “Learned it from my big sister.”

 

—

 

Although a part of her wanted to hide in her apartment or run far away and become a hermit in the mountains, Alex knew she actually did have to go to work.  Which meant seeing Lucy and figuring out whatever the hell this was.  Is?  Maybe playing dumb is still a viable plan.

She really, really doesn’t want to deal with this.  Mostly on her own end, because she’s terrible at relationships and that was before she ended up with a job that often required not-technically-existing.  Really hard to maintain an honest relationship when you’re lying through your teeth about what you had _for lunch_.  Some days, Alex feels like she can barely hang onto Kara, so throwing anyone else into that equation is unfair to them.

What makes this worse is that Lucy works with her.  If (when) she fucks this up, Alex knows that actually continuing at the DEO as it is now would be impossible.  Which means not being able to give Kara help when she needs it and oh god everything is terrible and bad.  Terribad?

Alex buries her head in her arms on her desk.  Why is the voice in her head sounding like her sister again?  She really is losing it.

The clunk of ceramic against wood makes her look up, seeing Lucy placing a fresh mug of coffee on her desk.  Alex stares at her, mind suddenly blank and mouth dry.

“It’s not poisoned, Danvers.”  Lucy’s smile is wry.

Alex opens her mouth.  “I...” Closes it.  Tries again.  “I...” Gives up.  “Thank you.” 

Lucy pauses for a moment, as if waiting for something, then just settles in at her desk and gets to work, leaving Alex staring.  She grips that coffee mug like a lifeline, looking down into it as if it contains the secrets of the universe.  If it has any advice, it isn’t giving it up.

Maybe she should stop running away from her problems.  Again. 

She gets up from her desk, makes sure the door is closed, and leans against it.  She can feel Lucy’s eyes on the back of her neck, and when she turns around, Alex realizes she’s stopped writing.  “So, um,” she croaks, tongue thick and clumsy in her mouth. Her fingers twist together, a nervous tell she knows she has but can’t quite break.  “Can we talk?”

Lucy puts down the pen.  “Sure.  About what?”

Of course she’s going to play dumb.  Of course she is.  Because that’s the way Alex’s life goes, isn’t it?  Why make it easy when there’s a hard way?  “About...what, uh, happened.”

“Okay.  What about it?”

Alex closes her eyes.  “Dammit, Lucy.  You know what I mean.  I don’t understand _why_.” 

Lucy gets up and leans in front of her desk, arms crossed.  “I would have thought I made that abundantly clear on Friday.”  Her hands drop to rest behind her on the edge of the desk.  Her tone is casual, but Alex can see the tendons in her wrists from her grip.   “I like you, Alex.  I like working with you, but I also like how your ass somehow looks fantastic even in those combat fatigues.” 

Alex feels the tips of her ears burn as she stares at her boots. 

“If...if you don’t want it, I’ll back off.”  Lucy’s voice has gone soft, but there’s an undercurrent there that sounds strangely vulnerable.  (Alex doesn’t like it.)  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s...no, wait.  That’s not it.”  The words seem to bring Lucy to a halt, and Alex can see the tense line of her shoulders.  (This isn’t right, Lucy isn’t a person who should be making herself smaller.)  She lets out a harsh breath.  “I...I think I like you too.  Like that.  I just, I don’t, I don’t know what you want.”  Why you’d want _me_ , she doesn’t say.

“I think I’d like to try, if you are.”

She closes her eyes.  Try.  There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea.  But at the same time, she doesn’t know if she’d regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t at least try. 

Alex always tries.

“Okay,” she says, opening her eyes.  “Okay.  Trying.  I...I think I can do that.”

Lucy’s smile is a small thing, but her eyes are shining and Alex nearly forgets how to breathe anyway.  She’s pretty sure there’s some part of her that would just keep looking at Lucy in wonder (seriously, why, out of all the people in the world, why her?) if the rest of her didn’t smother that part with the reminder that, yes, they are still at work.  Alex swallows hard, then tries to look anywhere else before she embarrasses herself.  “So, um...” Oh damn, how do these things go?  Shit, how about trying anywhere else.  “How do you feel about dinner?  Later.  Dinner later.  Somewhere off this base.”

“Alex Danvers, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Um...I guess?  Yes.”

Lucy gives her that smile again.  “All right then.  Dinner.”

 

—

 

Later, when Lucy surges up to kiss her again, Alex meets her halfway.


End file.
